Where Do Dreams Go?
by SilverElvenEyes
Summary: An elf-child with a dark past is found near Rivendell and trained by the elves. But will she grow up to be too dangerous for even her guardians to control?
1. Chapter One: The Prologue

DISCLAIMER: All right, this applies to the WHOLE STORY because I don't want to keep writing this on every chapter. I ONLY OWN LINDAN, LINDRIEL, ALDAYA, THE TWO ELF-CHILDREN FEATURED IN THIS CHAPTER, AND TINDÓMË. **pause** So that's ninety-five percent of the character-cast…so what? :-b  Only kidding. Anyway, yes. Unless I specifically mention otherwise, EVERYONE and EVERYWHERE belongs to the great and majorly cool J.R.R. Tolkien. 

Prologue

"Uncle?" a small and sleepy Tindómë said to Glorfindel, sitting in the older elf's lap with his eyes half-closed and his pointy ears still looking slightly too big for his head. Two other younger elves, an older girl and a boy somewhere between Tindómë and the girl's age sat together playing marbles at Glorfindel's feet. None were full grown as yet. He and Aldaya had offered to do baby-sitting that evening. 

"Hmm?" Glorfindel looked down at the small elf child curled in his arms, his bright gray eyes watching Glorfindel with an expression of insatiable curiosity. Aldaya stood near to them both, painting on an easel. Outside, the sunset painted Tol Eressëa blood red, and the sky began to deepen into dusk. 

"Will you tell me a story?"

"What would you like to hear?" Glorfindel returned.

The girl looked up, excited. "Something sad!" she exclaimed. "And romantic!"

"No!" the other boy said. "Something exciting and action-filled!"

"Something with a good ending," Tindómë said. 

Aldaya and Glorfindel exchanged glances; something seemed to pass between them. "I will tell you the story of Lindriel and Lindan," he said at last. 

"Lindan?" The girl's ears perked up at once. "Ellórmë's father?"

"That's right." Glorfindel smiled and shifted a now wide-awake Tindómë to lean against his other arm. "But can you three stay quiet long enough to hear the whole story?"

Three young elves nodded quickly. 

"Very well." Glorfindel cleared his throat as Aldaya left her easel, took Tindómë in her arms and settled down on the floor next to the two children. "Once, a very long time ago…"

"How long?" interrupted the boy.

"You said you'd be quiet," Glorfindel reminded him. The girl punched the boy. 

"Be quiet!" she scolded, and then turned her attention back to Glorfindel. "Please go on, Uncle."

"As I was saying, a very long time ago there lived an elf-girl. Her name we did not know. We called her Lindriel…"


	2. Chapter Two: Stranger in the Land

DISCLAIMER: See Prologue

a/n: Ok, so I cheated. Glorfindel wasn't at Rivendell at the beginning of the Third Age. He came at 1000 Third Age. But I need him in this, so just ignore that little fact. Thank you.

Chapter One

Stranger in the Land

It was at the beginning of the Third Age, and life in Rivendell had never been better. Lord Elrond was happily married to the Lady Celebrían, and she pregnant with twins—

_"Eww!" the boy exclaimed._

_"Be silent," ordered the girl._

And pregnant with twins. It was summer, clear and beautiful as ever. The orcs had stopped harrying the paths across the Misty Mountains, and more messages were being sent between Lothlórien and Rivendell, since the Lady had come to stay with us. 

I was out riding the paths near to the Misty Mountains one day, looking for any signs of orcs or wargs. Finding none, I continued to ride south, taking the brushy mountain trails for pleasure rather than necessity. It was then that I heard crying, high, shrill, and child-like. I followed the sounds to a small cave on one of the trails leading down the Misty Mountains. It was mid-day, and very hot. I ducked under the cave's entrance, leaving my horse outside. 

The crying nearer now, I crouched down and peered into the darkness. As my eyes adjusted I saw a small bundle bent over two prone figures, crying heavily. I crept up and touched the creature's shoulder. The girl—for it was a girl—turned, and I could see she was elven, a little younger than you, Tindómë, dressed in black robes. 

I looked down at the figures—also elves—and felt for a pulse. Both elves were dead with vicious wounds on their bodies. One was male and the other female. It must have been the girl's parents.

The child kept crying, but was too distraught even to tell me her name. I coxed her out into the sunlight where she clung to my horse's neck and sobbed. I took out my canteen and offered it to her. She sipped it, her face red from crying, and then curled up against the horse's forelegs. I went back inside and buried the two elves, murmuring a prayer to Elbereth for them. 

When I came back out the girl was asleep. I picked her up and mounted my horse, turning back to Rivendell. 

The girl woke up. "Who are you, little one?" I asked softly. 

The girl's voice was flat and showed no emotion. "I'm an assassin."

I twitched in surprise. "Little one, you're too young to think of such things!"

The girl's small face hardened. "I will grow up to be an assassin, and all will fear me."

Needless to say, I was a little disturbed. "Little one, why would you want to kill people for a living?"

"Because all life has ever done for me is kill the one's I love."

The girl's voice was bitter and raw with pain. It was like a scythe dragged across my soul, and I flinched inwardly. Maybe Elrond can help her, I thought as I urged Asfaloth the First faster. "What is your name?" I asked, trying to find a safe topic.

"Lindriel the Lethal."

I winced again, and briefly wondered if the girl had gone mad from watching her parents die. "What happened?"

"A creature attacked my parents and killed them. I was out hunting berries and came back in time to chase it off."

"You scared off something your parents couldn't?" I asked doubtfully.

"Yes. I am Lindriel and all will fear me."

_"Uncle, this is scaring me," __the girl said, climbing into Glorfindel's lap and leaning against his chest as Tindómë tightened his arms around his mother's neck. The boy alone seemed unmoved._

_"I am sorry, Sirwen. It is less scary from here on."_

_"All right, Uncle."_

I gave the child over to Elrond and the elves at the house to feed and clothe. I briefly took Elrond aside and explained all I had learned. He, too, was troubled, and vowed to talk to the girl as soon as she settled in. 

Unfortunately, tragedy struck before then.

A dog jumped Lindriel when she was out walking one day. Without flinching she drew a knife and gutted the creature.

_"Cool!" the boy exclaimed as Sirwen winced._

The elves were horrified, both at the attack and at the child's complete apathy. There was an elf there, though, who saw talent, and who wished to train it.

Gilsul, one of the only elven-assassins in the history of the Eldar took Lindriel and trained her in the dark ways of the guild. In our folly, we let him.

And unbeknownst to us, created a monster.


End file.
